Second Best Isn't So Bad
by DNAisUnique
Summary: Takes place immediately after 'The Harbingers in the Fountain.'


**Bones is back! Hopefully everyone has recovered from the finale and is pleased with the premiere. This takes place after "The Harbingers in the Fountain,' so anything through that is fair game! This also has a tiny reference/shout out to CSI: NY and my peeps from that fandom! :) Enjoy!**

**VVVVV**

"Come on, Booth," Brennan protested, following him into his office. "What did she mean by that? What all works out eventually?"

"How am I supposed to know, Bones? I'm not the psychic," Booth grinned.

"I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. You know what she meant."

"Oh, so now you're channeling Sweets and reading body language?"

Brennan made a face. "Channeling is as absurd as psychics or Sweets' psychology."

Booth's grin widened slyly. "Then why do you care so much about what Ms. Harmonia said."

"I don't," she huffed, knowing and hating that Booth had her on that one.

"Um, Bones," Booth said seriously, motioning toward her. "How's your arm?"

Brennan glanced down at her arm. "What? Oh, I'm fine. See?" She held up her arm to show him and cleared her throat. "You know, I never thanked you for saving my life, Booth."

"Hey," Booth said nonchalantly, though his grin grew even bigger, "that's what partners do. You saved my life by making me have the surgery, and I saved yours by killing the psycho doctor guy. We're even."

Brennan chuckled. "I'm sorry I bled all over your shirt, too."

"No problem, Bones. I needed a new shirt anyway."

"Well, I'll buy it for you."

Booth laughed, only slightly uncomfortable with the thought of Brennan buying clothes for him.

"Uh, no, it's okay," he said finally.

"No, Booth, I insist. At least let me give you the money for it."

"No, really, Bones, it's fine."

"Well if you change your mind…"

"…I know where to find you."

Their eyes locked as smiles spread across each of their faces.

"We're really back, aren't we?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, yeah," Booth agreed, nodding his head. "We're _so _back!" he said, holding out his fist and raising his eyebrows, indicating she should bump his fist with hers.

She rolled her eyes, but bumped fists with him anyway.

"Attagirl!" he exclaimed.

"Attaboy," she replied, less enthusiastically, though only because she still didn't understand the significance of fist-bumping or using made up words or phrases as a means of communication and encouragement.

"So," Booth said, clapping his hands together once, then rubbing them vigorously, "how about we grab that breakfast?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, I'm starved," he said, joining her on the other side of his desk. "Aren't you hungry?"

"But, Booth, if you were hungry, why did you come in your office after Ms. Harmonia left?"

"Because I wasn't hungry then." Booth chuckled to himself. He sounded like Parker, having to go to the bathroom five minutes into the trip.

"That was only a few minutes ago. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine, Bones," he said, ushering her out the door. "I'm just hungry."

"Okay," she said skeptically. "Are we going to drink, too? Because as you said, that's what we usually do."

Booth laughed. "Yeah, we're gonna drink, too, Bones."

"Hey, Booth?" Brennan asked.

"Yeah?"

"How did you know Ms. Harmonia said that thing about settling for the second best situation?"

"What are you talking about?"

"She said that to me before you joined us."

"Oh. Well, maybe she knew I was going to say that."

"That's ridiculous! I don't even know _why_ you said it. You're not one who _settles_ for things. If there's something you want, you go after it."

Booth chuckled nervously, anxious to change the subject.

"Why did you say that, Booth?"

"It doesn't matter," Booth muttered.

"Yes it does," Brennan said, stopping in her tracks and crossing her arms over her chest. "Just tell me."

"Fine," Booth sighed. "Apparently, I was happier in my coma-induced dream world than I've ever been."

Brennan stared at him for a long moment, a small part of her wishing she did have Sweets' body-language-reading abilities.

"I had better clothes."

"So the second best situation is your real life with sub-standard clothing?"

"I wouldn't call my wardrobe sub-standard," he replied, once again ushering her toward the elevator. "It's just that my clothes there were _awesome_, Bones!" He flattened his tie against his shirt. "And it didn't hurt that I had a smokin'-hot wife," he mumbled to himself.

"What was that, Booth?"

"I'm in the mood for fried chicken and steamed rice," Booth lied.

"Uh-huh," Brennan said with an amused smirk, eyebrow quirked to the max. "You know, I don't think your life is that bad, Booth. You've got a good job, a great kid, and me. And though I'm not your wife, I _am_ smokin'-hot."

A _ding_ announced the elevator's arrival, and Brennan entered, leaving Booth staring in at her, seemingly rooted in place.

Brennan turned to face him, smirk even bigger. "You coming?"

**VVVVV**

**Thanks for reading! **


End file.
